


Shoot Me in the Foot

by himitsutsubasa



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural (TV) Fusion, F/M, Gen, Hunters & Hunting, Thanksgiving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-27
Updated: 2014-11-27
Packaged: 2018-02-27 04:48:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2679728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/himitsutsubasa/pseuds/himitsutsubasa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Braeden and Marin Morrell were trained by their brother to hunt the creatures of the supernatural. Now, their brother has mysteriously disappeared while hunting the demon that killed their parents, 22 years ago.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shoot Me in the Foot

**Author's Note:**

  * For [goddessofcruelty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/goddessofcruelty/gifts).



_November 22, 2014. Beacon Hills, California._

 

“Al’s missing.”

Marin’s got her hands on a shot gun and a small frown on her face. Slick oil drips down her fingers as she cleans the gun, wiping up residue and peering inside.

“Whaddya mean he’s missing?” Braeden rounds on the table where her sister has her feet propped up.

“I mean,” Marin says. “That he went out on a hunt two weeks ago and didn’t come back.”

Braeden yanks out the chair across from her sister, taking a moment to shove Marin’s feet off her table before falling into the chair. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

Marin snorts. “Like you cared. The only reason I’m here is the fact you’re a better tracker than I am.”

“The trail is cold by now.”

“Not if my seals hold up.”

Braeden shakes her head. Of course, Marin always thought thirteen steps ahead, when she was winning her way into Barrow’s camp, when she let herself get taken in by witches, when she set fire to their home in Chicago to burn the nest of incubi alive, when they ran into the fucking Winchester brothers. She always knew.

“You want me to head out to….”

“Montana.”

“Montana…” Okay, Alan does not give up the strange hunting spots thing he has going on. “To help you find Alan?”

“Yeah.” Marin breathes. “He thought… he thought he was onto something, about mom and dad.”

Braeden sighs. Derek’s upstairs, sleeping. Finally, she thinks, after all his nightmares. And here she is, walking away. And… well…

“Brae…”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Only your boy upstairs gets to?” Marin raises a brow, looking up at the ceiling.

Braedon follows her sister’s eyes. “He’s not my boy and no, he doesn’t.”

Marin nods, turning back to her gun. “Are you in or not?”

Braedon inhales, holding the air in her chest and waiting for clarity.

“Okay, but just this once. After this, you two are out of my life for good.”

* * *

_ November 24, 2014. Ryegate, Montana. _

 

“Fuck you too.” Braeden wipes blood off her forehead, where it drips into her eyes, and hopes the blood will clot soon.

The creature… she’s not quite sure what it is… cackles.

“You foolish human!” It shrieks delightedly, claws and extra arms waving. “Your heart is perfect.”

Marin sets off an explosion somewhere and body parts start flying. The other creature… two boys fused together, if Braeden remembers correctly, screams high and loud, scratching away at her eardrums.

“So you want courage?”

The beast smirks, claws extended and fangs dripping with blood… hers? Marin’s?

“You’re fearful, dear. Keep a lid on that.”

“Ha,” Braedon chuckles, swinging her arm and emptying the cartridge into the beast’s face.  “No.”

It falters as the wolfsbane crashes through its cerebrum, through grey and white matter, splattering, severing, liquefying, and sending it backward.  

Another one bites the dust and a small part of the world is safe from bad things that go bump in the night. Contentment bubbles in her chest, loving protectiveness for the countless lives saved.

Braeden scrambles to her feet, reloading in the lull and searching for the female wolf who guided them there. “Almost done over there?”

“Done!” A crunch, followed by whining. Braedon crawls out from the bracken surrounding the sacrificial site and finds her sister stepping on a young man’s hand as another whimpers from where he’s bound on the ground.

Marin turns to face her as the bracken parts and she smiles.

“I’d like you to meet Ethan and Aiden.”

The one by the fire whines, “I’m Ethan.”

“And I’m Aiden.” The wolf at Marin’s feet growls again, before whimpering as cracking branches sound.

“I got him. We need to burn him.”

“Kali!” The one on the ground starts squealing, begging. “Help us. Come on! They’ve got Ethan tied up with wolfsbane.”

Kali shakes her head, tossing the ravaged body of the alpha on the bonfire.

“Kali!”

The woman turns and kneels before the boy. Her face twists, something bitter and hurt, like the wounded animal she is. “He was using us!”

The boy pales. “No…”

Kali motions for Marin to get off his hand and she picks it up, draining the pain, taking darkness into her veins. “He was going to eat our hearts.”

“Aiden…”Braedon turns away. No. This isn’t…

“He wouldn’t!”

He sounds so hopeful, so hurt at the idea. Just like…

“He would.”

And the betrayal….

“Ethan?”

She turns back, tears tucked away inside, hidden under smears of dirt and grease and hurt.

The other one, bound and less bloody, sobs. “Kali’s never lied. Never.”

And the one on the floor, hand slowly healing and heart still cracking, lets out a sound Braeden remembers from the sleepless nights she heard her brother sobbing over his lost love.

And that is why she left.

* * *

_ November 26, 2014. Beacon Hills, California. _

 

Derek’s at the door when she gets back, still dirty, though the blood is washed away.

He nudges her to the shower, silent, tired, that look on his face that she never thought he would make, while looking at her.

When she’s clean, and there’s a sandwich and coffee in front of her, Derek sits down with her at the table, eyes still flickering every few seconds to the front of the house, where Marin is still parked.

Of course, where Marin is still parked. The 1969 Mustang isn't inconspicuous, especially to someone who knows cars, like Derek.

“I’m not going back.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

Braeden sighs, putting down her coffee. “I put that life behind me, just like I put the Marshals behind me.”

“Braeden.” Derek’s face twists into something she can’t quite call a smile. There’s something like glass, something biting and cutting like the claws and teeth he keeps wrapped up inside.

And she knows he knows her, better than she knows herself sometimes. And he knows, just like she learned, that she says things she doesn’t mean.

“It’s been three months.” Since they moved in together. He doesn’t need to say it.

“And I love it.”

And she gets that look again, that one that puts her back at day one because he saw right through her then, saw right through the battered jacket and the devil-may-care look on her face.

“Are you breaking up with me?”

“I’m asking you what if what we have will make you happy.”

“It will.” And

“The happiest you will ever be?”

“Yes?” Braeden clutches at the cup. “No? I don’t know.”

The warm heat of joy, of being the protector and not the protected, of wielding her gun like it was part of her arm, twists up in her chest, wrapping around her heart, clinging all over again, reminding her who she was, who she may still be.

“Braeden,” Derek sighs her name, like it is a prayer. “I’m not asking you to pick between me and what you want. I’m asking if you want both.”

“Both?”

Derek nods. “We can take things as they come, roll with it.”

And Braeden laughs, taking his hand in hers and pressing a kiss to the palm.

He is perfect, so perfect. So startlingly, wonderfully, perfect. Derek is, was, and will be, the best man she has ever known.

Derek takes his hand back, catching hers and pressing a kiss to her fingertips. “You want to tell Marin she can bring those boys in?”

* * *

_ November 27, 2014. Thanksgiving Day. _

 

Derek’s pulling the turkey out of the fryer and yelling at the smaller Stilinski to get the vegetables plated already, it smells like they’re burning. Kali’s laughing from where she’s helping; it’s a sound Braeden never thought she would hear.

And, Braeden knows that there’s a big, bulky wolf in the kitchen baking some sort of southern comfort, and that Marin is hovering like a hawk because that woman loves pumpkin pie. She’s pretty sure the double mint twins are out burning off steam with Erica and Scott, where they are though, she has no idea.

She sets yet another hemp string wrapped napkin setting on the table, chuckling as she remembers the noontime scramble for tiki torches and more tables and table clothes and oh, lord, did they have enough plates for their three new family members?

They did and it feels nice; it feels like home. It reminds her of all the things she has to be thankful for.

And Braeden has a lot of things to be thankful for.

A boyfriend who doesn’t give a shit what her day job is as long as she plays by the rules and gets shit done.

A sister who can be a witch, but is smart and totally worth most of the trouble she puts Braeden through.

The pack of strays she and Derek have picked up; composed of the local wildings like banshees and kitsunes.

And her brother, who got her into this whole mess. Twice.

Oh, well, her brother?

Well, she’ll find him by next Thanksgiving. She knows he wouldn’t miss meeting her family if he could help it.

No, he wouldn’t miss it for the world.

**Author's Note:**

> I could not set my baby on fire. You know I cannot do that. He suffers enough in show.  
> Also, not breaking up draeden. They probably will break up eventually because... well... Jess..  
> Also, not my usual style. I apologize. I figure she sounds different from, well, me.  
> Also, Ryegate is a real place and don't go burning the place down.  
> Also, working on the things for the mother ship. I'm thankful for the kind, understanding people letting me take my time to panic quietly in my bedroom.


End file.
